Page 80 of Blood Bound

As he keeps talking, something dawns on me. Not only is he not alone, but there are several others with him. I make out at least half a dozen vampires. More witches. And the overwhelming sense of powerful magic.

More than I can take on alone. Not without risking Rowan’s safety. If I go in there and fail, they’ll kill her for sure.

Be smart about this, Drake.

I turn away from the voices, pushing down the rage threatening to consume me. There’ll be time for retribution later. Right now, Rowan needs me.

I close my eyes, focusing on our bond. It pulses faintly, like a distant heartbeat, growing stronger with each step. I slip through the corridors, my senses attuned for any sign of guards or traps.

The scent of fear and despair hangs heavy in the air, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. My muscles tighten as I imagine what Rowan must be going through.

Finally, I reach a heavy metal door. The bond thrums, stronger than ever.

She’s here.

I peer through the small, barred window, and my breath catches in my throat.

There she is.

Rowan sits huddled in the corner, her fiery hair dulled by the dim light. She looks small, vulnerable, but there’s a determined set to her jaw that makes my chest tighten.

As if sensing my presence, she looks up. Our eyes meet, and suddenly, everything else fades away.

A flood of emotion washes over me – relief so profound it’s almost painful, joy that burns brighter than the sun, and something else. Something I haven’t felt in a dozen lifetimes. It’s overwhelming, threatening to bring me to my knees.

For a moment, I’m lost in the depths of her green eyes, feeling more human than I have in centuries.

Her face crumples as our eyes lock. “You came,” she whispers. “I knew you’d come.”

It takes me a moment to find words. “How could I not?” Seeing her here, feeling our connection restored…it feels like I can breathe again. But I can’t afford to lose focus. We’re not out of danger yet.

I gather my strength, gripping the metal door. With a swift, controlled motion, I tear it off its hinges, the screech of protesting metal echoing through the corridor. Rowan stumbles toward me, relief evident in her eyes. Chains drag behind her, loosely binding her, but I sense the power within them. It enrages me, and I’m barely aware of the ease with which I snap the manacles off with my bare hands. But as I reach for her wrist to pull her from the stinking cell, she stops me.

“Wait! We need to save Sarah, too.”

I frown, confusion momentarily overriding my urgency. “Who the hell is Sarah?”

Rowan gestures to the neighboring cell. “The witch next door. We can’t leave her behind.”

I hesitate, acutely aware of the precious seconds ticking away. Every moment we linger increases our risk of discovery. But the determination in Rowan’s eyes is unmistakable. I’ve lived long enough to recognize when arguing is futile.

With a resigned sigh, I turn to the adjacent cell. The bars crumple like paper beneath my hands, revealing a barely conscious woman huddled in the corner.

“There are others,” Rowan insists as I scoop Sarah into my arms. The witch is light, frighteningly so, and I can smell the sickness radiating from her.

“I’ll make sure they’re saved, I promise,” I assure Rowan, meeting her gaze steadily. “But right now, we need to get you out of here.”

I can see the conflict in her eyes, the desire to help warring with the reality of our situation. Finally, she nods, a muscle flickering in her jaw.

“Let’s go,” she says, and I move out of the cell, Sarah in my arms and Rowan close behind. It almost hurts not to be able to hold her, but I know there’ll be time for that later.

If we get out of here…

We fucking will!

Stepping past the ruined cell door, I lead the way through the winding corridors, keenly aware of every sound, every hint of activity around us. The stench of fear and decay clings to everything, making my nose wrinkle in disgust. Rowan follows closely, her breathing labored but determined. The witch in my arms, Sarah, seems to be hanging on by a thread, and I sense that whatever has incapacitated her is affecting Rowan too.

Every fiber of my being screams to move faster, to get Rowan out of this shit heap. But I force myself to maintain a steady pace, attentive to her weakened state. The magic permeating this place grates against my skin, blocking my ability to shadow travel. It’s infuriating, being stripped of one of my most useful abilities when we need it most.

---